Party Girl
by GypsyAnna
Summary: Caleigh...makes new friends?


**Party Girl**

**33.06.13, StarRise Weyr**

Caleigh's footsteps trailed behind her, fading and darkening as she dipped into the water on the lake's edge, then out again. The stone was cool beneath her feet, kept swept free of dirt, for dragon-washing convenience. There wasn't much point in cleaning a dragon if they became all-over-muddy as soon as they left the water, after all. The dirt that had, once upon a time, surrounded the lake had been dug up and hauled away, exposing the stone long hidden beneath the soil.

Small rocks were scattered around, probably brought in deliberately since time should have swept clean any loose stone. Caleigh could just see a few thoughtful dragonriders collecting stones from around Pern and bringing them there for the children to skip across the lake's surface. She bent down frequently as she walked, collecting small rocks until she had a sizable number of them gathered in the basket she made of the bottom of her blouse.

She stopped her walk, looked out over the calm water and closed her eyes. Peace settled within her, a sense of home and security and contentment. She'd missed StarRise in the five long turns spent at Ista. Ista was an island, and it appealed more to her sea-loving soul than a landlocked Weyr would have, but StarRise was where she had Impressed and, at heart, Caleigh was very much a homebody.

The scents of the Weyr were unique and Caleigh smiled as she breathed them deep into her lungs. It might have been just her imagination, but she didn't think so. There were flowers that grew on this island – and in the Weyr itself – that simply didn't grow on Ista. The ocean was a different color, too, and had a sound all its own. Even within the Weyr, she could feel and hear the waves rushing over the sands of the beaches of her home.

Reaching for the first skipping stone she'd gathered, Caleigh opened her eyes. The sun was a candlemark or two from setting, and dinner was just over. Caylie had raced off to the Candidates' barracks as soon as the meal was done, more excited to have begun her official probation than sad at leaving her mother's weyr. Caleigh ran her fingers over the water-smoothed stone and shifted it around in her hand to get just the right hold. Her arm whipped back and she tossed, nodding in satisfaction as the stone skipped four times before sinking below the surface of the lake.

Yep. She still had it.

Reaching for the next stone, Caleigh thought back over the past three months. Life had been both hectic and far more relaxed than it had been in a long time. She'd flown 'Fall for both Ista and StarRise for five turns. If StarRise had had the amount of land to cover that most Weyrs did, it never would have worked. No dragonrider could keep up that level of intensity for that long. However, being an island chain set up just as it was, StarRise's 'Falls were a lot shorter than most. It had been a deciding factor.

So while moving and settling in had been hectic, the lightened load for meeting 'Fall had almost made it a vacation. Caleigh had recovered energy she hadn't realized she'd been drained of, and now felt almost buzzing with the overflow. She needed a new hobby, a new outlet, for that energy, and for the free time she now seemed to have.

She drew back her arm and let the next stone fly.

She could always take up sailing again. Before she Impressed, she was one of the best small craft handlers at Waylay. Unfortunately, sailing required candlemarks of time at a stretch and while she had more free time, she didn't have _that_ much more of it. Sailing would have to remain confined to Thread-free restdays.

Riding was something she could learn. Reyna had once tried to teach her, but it hadn't worked out. Maybe they could try again? _'Or not.'_

Or she could garden. She did like flowers and she'd seen planters at Ista Weyr that some dragonriders maintained. Seeing and tending to the bright blooms on her own weyr ledge, or inside her weyr, would be satisfying. It would add color and fragrance to the gray rooms.

She prepared her next stone and tossed her hand back – then gasped when she lost her grip and the stone flew in the wrong direction. She turned, almost certain that no harm would come of the missed throw, and then froze when she saw she wasn't as alone as she had thought she was – and the rock had found a target.

One moment, C'jan had put away the last oiling rag in the basket, ready for a swim to rinse away the sweat he'd worked up while bathing and oiling Dionath. The next moment, something struck him right over the eye.

"Ow!"

_She threw that_, Dionath told him, stretching out a wing to brace him.

C'jan squeezed his eyes shut, surprised at the throbbing pain. "She who, Dio?"

_Her!_

"I'm sorry!" C'jan opened his eyes to see a woman hurry towards him, her eyes wide with distress. "Are you all right? I wasn't aiming—I mean, I didn't do it on purpose—"

C'jan closed his eyes and let himself fall bonelessly to the ground. _Ouch. That was the dumbest idea I've had lately._

"Oh, no!" Gentle hands touched his face, lingered over his eye, felt for a pulse. C'jan took pity on her agitation, and opened his eyes. "Are you all right?"

Movement brought twinges in his back and hip, which had taken the brunt of his collapse. "I think I'll be all right," and C'jan pushed himself up on his elbows. The woman sat back on her heels, pushing loose hair back behind her ears before reaching to touch his eye again, fingertips pressing against a newly tender spot. "You really got me there. I'd hate to see what you're capable of when you _do_ aim."

"I really am sorry. Do you think you could walk? I can get you to the Infirmary—"

"No, let's not bother Aerden. I think the red flag's flying today." C'jan pushed himself into a sitting position. "Look, my weyr's on the other side of the Lake. Where's your weyr?"

"Not far. Here, let me help you up."

They started off towards her weyr, C'jan letting her take his arm. _I'm enjoying this more than I should__,_ he told himself, smiling at her. _She puts me in mind of Leania all those years ago--poor little trembling girl, terrified of the whole world__._ "I'm C'jan, and the lovely green lady here is Dionath. What's your name?"

_She is Bralaeth's rider_, Dionath informed him caustically.

"Caleigh. I'm Bralaeth's rider."

"Well, thank you for your help, Caleigh. I appreciate it." C'jan continued to smile at her. He loved women, lack of attraction notwithstanding; Caleigh's distress visibly ebbed away as she led him to her weyr, leaving him with an impression of capability. _Sweet girl—and she has green eyes to die for_. "I'll just sit for a little bit," he suggested. "I've taken some falls before, but I was younger."

She shot him an eloquent, sidelong look that said clearly, _You don't look that old._

Caleigh relaxed slowly as it became clear C'jan wasn't going to start ranting at her about her carelessness. She'd heard of him, of course. The entire Weyr had heard of him, if only because of the 'lessons' the Weyrleader had forced him to learn after his green's first mating flight at StarRise. The stories of the damage he'd done to his first couple of mating flight partners when he transferred to StarRise still made the rounds, and D'ven's solution to cure the problem by locking C'jan in a closet by himself for the duration of the mating flights had been a hard, but effective, solution. So while C'jan was charming and smiling, she was fairly confident he was reverting to instinctive behavior. He _had_ to be more concerned about whatever harm she'd inflicted on him than on easing her upset.

"Since I'm the one who hurt you to begin with..." Caleigh murmured, settling C'jan onto the comfy couch she'd claimed from storage. "Let me take a look at this."

With a wounded person at hand, Caleigh's nerves settled quickly. There was work to be done. She placed two fingers under C'jan's chin and tilted his head back so she could see his forehead in clearer light. She'd left the entrance to her weyr open, and there was no tunnel to speak of, so late afternoon light flooded through the room. It wouldn't be long before the caldera would block the last of the light and she'd have to turn the glows.

"Hm." She gently touched the abrasion that was just barely beading blood. "Well, there's a little bleeding, but other than a headache and maybe a nasty bruise, you'll be well enough. Let me get my kit and maybe I can make some of that pain go away."

She didn't wait for C'jan to answer, but crossed her weyr to the cabinet placed against the stone wall. The wood was stained rich, reddish brown, and fancifully carved with a forest theme. Inside she kept odds and ends that were useful or necessary: a first aid kit, her tools for working with Bralaeth's gear, and the like. Pulling out the small chest with her first aid supplies, she closed the cabinet and returned to C'jan.

She pulled out a small flask of redwort and a piece of cloth to pour it on. "This may sting," she warned C'jan as she daubed the blood away from his skin. Her nose wrinkled at the astringent smell, but redwort would definitely clean out whatever bits of dirt may have been clinging to the small stone.

Setting aside the cloth and flask once she was satisfied it was clean, she gave the wound a closer look. The skin around the abrasion was already starting to darken, but as she'd thought there was little more than a scrape breaking the skin itself. She opened a jar and picked up one of the swabs she kept for applying numbweed. Dipping up a little, she smoothed it over C'jan's forehead. There was a faint, almost indiscernible, softening of his face as the pain faded and the muscles that had tensed in protest relaxed.

"You'll be fine," she said, stepping back and repacking her kit. Back into the cabinet it went and between setting it inside and turning around as she closed the door, her uneasiness at having a stranger alone with her returned. She wasn't afraid. She was just uncomfortable. She'd never really learned how to manage polite small talk.

She had a stranger in her weyr, and she knew she couldn't be properly amusing. She didn't entertain much, and then only friends she'd known awhile. There weren't many of them; the group was pretty much limited to a handful of her clutchmates. And her daughter, of course, but she'd been married to Caylie's father so briefly and so long ago, that she barely remembered the man. She did remember that they'd not had much in common, or spoken much to each other during their brief marriage.

C'jan, however, she didn't really know at all. She'd been the one to hurt him, however, and she couldn't very well chase him out. Especially if he were as unsteady on his feet as he seemed to be. Although, she frowned thoughtfully, that little bump and bruise shouldn't have rattled him **that** much. Still, she wasn't in his head and couldn't dictate how he was feeling, which meant she couldn't chivvy him out the door.

If she could even figure out how one person could chivvy another anywhere!

_Stop,_ she told herself sternly as her thoughts chased each other in eternal and senseless circles. She took a breath and tried to remember what her mother had done when she had visitors. What was it…? Oh, yes! Refreshments! "Would-would you like something to drink? I think I have juice or sun tea..."

_If she wants something to drink, there is plenty of water in the Lake_, Dionath suggested.

_Dio, be nice_. C'jan paused as Caleigh's offer penetrated. "Juice is fine, thank you." The brownrider was a fair hand at nursing, and her nerves seemed to have settled. _I shouldn't have pretended to faint, but I honestly thought she'd get the joke. Ah, well._ He took the glass she offered with a smile. "It looks like you've settled in well. This weyr looks comfortable."

"Thank you." She sat down and watched him, eyes shadowed. C'jan drank his juice, looking her over. Caleigh was a rider he'd seen once in a while, but his attention had been focused on his wingmates, his friends, his weyrmate and his family—and, more recently, the group of StarRise riders who'd transferred to Sable Weyr. They were supposed to meet up at the Dragon's Eye for a drink and to catch up on life at StarRise so far. The germ of an idea took root as he finished up his glass.

_Dio? Do me a favor. Tell Syketh to tell T'ril to come to Bralaeth's weyr for me. Tell him I've found another lost lamb in need of taking in._

_What?_

_ Dio--never mind, sweetling. Just tell him._

"I think I'm beginning to feel a little better," he said, giving Caleigh his sweetest smile--the one many had told him made him look as dimwitted and harmless as a flitter-brained old auntie. "So tell me, Caleigh, have you always been a StarRise rider?"

Caleigh's eyebrows rose and the corner of her mouth quirked up. "Except for the temporary relocation for the past five turns?" she asked, her voice barely above a murmur as her eyes dropped to the floor.

C'jan gave a bark of laughter. "Yes. Except for that."

Caleigh shrugged, resting her palms on her thighs and stretching her fingers wide before relaxing them to curl loosely over her knees. "I Impressed here," she said, then glanced at C'jan from under her lashes as she pretended to study her carpet.

C'jan had a reputation for being more curious than a cat, and more than able to defend himself if that curiosity led to trouble. It had been five turns since they'd lived in the same Weyr, but she didn't think anyone managed to change their basic nature enough that they'd be any different now. C'jan, obviously, didn't know anything about her. She wasn't surprised. There wasn't any reason for her to be well-known to folk who'd not seen her nor heard her name in five turns.

He, on the other hand, had a reputation known well in two Weyrs, if not more.

So why this sudden interest in her? Passing the time until he was steady enough to walk? Simply bored? Or did he admire anyone stupid enough to conk him on the head with a rock, and remain standing for any length of time after doing so?

_Why wouldn't he be interested?_ Bralaeth asked curiously. _You are interesting._

_To you, dear, but not to many others,_ Caleigh answered, her tone light with affection and free of any bitterness. Bralaeth knew she was quite content with her life as it was. She did her part, pulled her own catch, drew no attention, and lived calmly and peacefully. She didn't experience the soaring highs like some people, true. That did make her wistful on occasion. However, she also didn't endure those grinding lows that dragged on forever. She had a lovely daughter to love and take pride in, who would one day, she both hoped and feared, Impress a dragon of her own. The course of her life was not dictated by someone else's whim anymore. What more could any woman ask for?

C'jan, she decided, was simply bored and passing the time until he was steady enough on his feet to get to his weyr. He could ask her to take him there, but Caleigh wasn't about to offer. It would be rude, and she didn't want to be rude on top of assaulting him. The least she could do would be to answer his questions until he was ready to go. So she looked at him again and raised an eyebrow, prepared for whatever he'd ask next. Like bubbly pies, no one was ever satisfied with just one question.

"There you go," T'ril commented, stepping back from Syketh's side. "Better?"

_Much,_ the blue dragon peered back over his shoulder. _But you missed a spot._

"I didn't miss anything." T'ril set the oil paddle down on top of the barrel and looked over Syketh's smooth hide. His trained eyes looked for any telltale dry patches and found none. Knowing Syketh's tendency to forget that he'd been completely oiled, he started to doubt. "Show me."

_Here. _The blue dragon swung his massive tail around, and everything seemed to slow to a crawl as T'ril watched that tail hit the handle on the oil paddle. It flipped up into the air and smacked into his bare chest, splattering him with oil.

T'ril heard the paddle clatter to the ground and stared down at it. Oil trickled into his eyes and he wiped it away. "Was that really necessary?"

_Sorry. I found the spot. _Syketh flicked his tail at a well oiled spot under his wing. Sighing, T'ril picked up the paddle and oiled the same spot again.

Syketh stretched his giant wings into the air above him, shaking himself all over. _That is good._

"I sharding hope so," T'ril muttered. "And now I have to clean myself up."

_Oil is good for you. _Syketh settled down on the ledge outside their weyr and soon, T'ril noticed that he was asleep.

"Must be nice," T'ril grumbled, picking up a towel and working on getting the oil off his face. At least it hasn't ended up in his hair, thank Faranth, he didn't want to try to bathe yet again today. As it was, the oil covered most of his torso, and he worked to wipe as much away as he could. If C'jan were there, he would love it, of that much T'ril was sure. However, C'jan had headed down to the lake earlier while T'ril had visited his parents. He'd hoped to catch up with him, but Syketh complained about itching so much that T'ril had decided to oil him first.

Syketh stirred on the weyr ledge. _Dionath says you should come to Bralaeth' s weyr._

T'ril rolled his eyes. "What's going on?"

_She says that there is some lamb there?_ The blue shook himself all over. _Maybe they think you are hungry._

"Are you sure that's what she said?"

_I will check. _After a moment of silence, Syketh looked over at T'ril. _Dionath's rider found a lost lamb._

T'ril frowned because the message still made little enough sense. "Can you get me to Bralaeth's weyr?" The dragon's name didn't sound familiar offhand but he shrugged and started gathering up some clothing. He'd find out when he got there.

He got dressed then picked up his boots, groaning. "Oh, not again!" he growled, peering at the pile of cat leavings behind his boots. "What the shard is this?"

Shadow peered at him from the bed, but Timor was nowhere to be found. T'ril grumbled, digging up a towel to pick up the offensive pile and tossing it in the box. It had becoming a daily occurrence since they'd moved to StarRise. Timor didn't appreciate the move to a new Weyr, and despite their best intentions in showing him the sand box it hadn't had much positive effect.

"You'd better get over this soon," he called to the missing cat, pulling on his boots. Stalker popped in from _between_, taking a spot at the end of the bed and strutting around.

"And you, you're staying here," he said, pointing to the blue firelizard. "I want you to chase that feline if you see him going anywhere that's not that box." He reinforced it with enough imagery to make the little firelizard understand, then headed out to find Bralaeth's weyr.

Caleigh glanced at her waterclock and refrained from sighing. For nearly half an hour C'jan had oh-so-charmingly interrogated her. She'd been right. There was no such thing as one question. The answer invariably led to more questions. Caleigh was tempted to get her own back and start grilling C'jan as ruthlessly as he was drilling into her life, but couldn't quite bring herself to do it. Just the thought made her stomach tighten and churn.

"So, two sisters and brother, and a daughter," C'jan said, leaning back on her couch.

The greenrider had one arm draped along the back and Caleigh felt a spurt of irritation as his body language proclaimed his possession of the furniture. For a fleeting moment, she felt like she was in his weyr, and not her own. For a moment, it was almost enough to make her snap at him.

Almost. Not quite. Even as she drew breath to tell him to leave, courtesy and a reluctance to make a scene kept her mouth shut.

She kept her eyes down, hiding her thoughts and her discomfort. Her mother had always told her – with some impatience – that she'd never get away with anything because her eyes always gave her away. Caleigh didn't know how, but the evidence was there to prove her mother right. She never had gotten away with anything, although there were precious few times she'd tried.

"Yes," she answered what she assumed was a request for clarification. "Three siblings, and my daughter Caylie."

"All fishers?" C'jan pressed.

"Except Caylie, yes," Caleigh nodded, then shot him a glance from beneath her lashes. Why he was curious she couldn't say. "I, my sisters, and my brother were involved in fishing until I was Searched," she offered, hoping a little extra information would end the interrogation. "Caylie wasn't even a toddler yet when I came to StarRise." She wished, with an intensity that startled her, that C'jan would suddenly feel better and go away so she could get on with her evening. _Which had been devoted to nothing more serious than moping,_ her quiet, inner voice reminded her. She wasn't taking Caylie's move to the barracks nearly as well as she thought she should. She drew a deep breath and forced herself to smile at C'jan. "Born and bred to the sea, all of us," she added. She would always love the sea no matter how many turns she spent as a dragonrider.

Oh, she was a hard one to crack. C'jan all but purred as he relaxed on the couch, thoroughly enjoying Caleigh's reaction to his questions. Turns of experience revealed the meaning of her every movement; Caleigh was dying to get rid of him. Her eyes rarely settled on his, but darted between the doorway and the carpet. Her posture was stiff, almost frozen, except for her hands, which fluttered in her lap like trapped birds. If she'd had extra hands, C'jan was sure she'd have started doing something else—like knitting.

Or poking his eyes out with the needle.

He wished T'ril would hurry up; he didn't want to drag a strange young woman to the Dragon's Eye without telling his weyrmate who she was. Outside, Dionath was just as impatient as Caleigh. _Why are we still here? Your head is much better, and you were only faking when you fainted._

_Because--wait--is that Syketh?_

_Syketh!_ Dionath's relief was almost touchable. _Now we can leave!_

_Syketh and his rider are here,_ Bralaeth announced suddenly, lifting his head from where he'd curled up on his couch. _They ask if they can come in._

_Who?_ Caleigh asked, startled and unable to place the name.

Bralaeth snorted. _Syketh,_ he repeated. _His rider's mate is speaking to you._

"Oh!" Caleigh's exclamations interrupted C'jan's next question and the look she darted at him was mingled irritation and consternation. "Ah. Bluerider T'ril is here." C'jan was quite enough on his own. His questions had amply demonstrated he was in no way hindered by his knock on the head. Now his weyrmate was coming in, as well? She couldn't very well refuse T'ril entry. It would be unspeakably rude, especially with his weyrmate already inside.

She stood up and looked around hastily, wondering if she had another glass for juice, or goblet for wine. She didn't keep much up here, just enough to see to her and Caylie's needs and comforts for the little time they had to spare in leisure hours in the weyr. Did she have any fruit? This soon after dinner, should she offer a sweet instead? Except she didn't have any sweets – or even fruit!

She bit her lip, then straightened her shoulders and crossed towards the door as she heard boots drop to the ledge outside.

"C'jan?" T'ril stepped inside, and C'jan grinned at him. The bluerider froze; his eyes were all that moved, from C'jan to Caleigh. "Hello," he said, offering Caleigh a smile. "I'm T'ril, Syketh's rider."

"Of course." Caleigh smiled, "I'm Caleigh, Bralaeth's rider."

"And now that we're all introduced," C'jan remarked cheerfully, "we can go have dinner, and a pitcher or three of wine. Or whatever it is they're serving at the Dragon's Eye."

T'ril rolled his eyes. "I see where this is going," he noted. "You could try asking about dinner first."

Caleigh visibly relaxed, and for the first time the smile she gave C'jan was completely natural "Have a nice dinner," she told them, smoothly stepping back from the door as she turned towards him. "Although drinking might not be a good idea, Wingleader C'jan," she added, seeing the darkening bruise on his forehead.

C'jan got to his feet. "Come with us," he said, taking Caleigh by the hands and ignoring her comment about drinking. She looked, poor thing, too stunned to protest, almost as if she expected him to bite her hands off instead. "You've taken care of me, invited me into your weyr, let me interrogate you like a misbehaving apprentice—so why not let me take you along with us for the evening?"

"I—" Caleigh's gaze shot to T'ril, who looked just as dumbfounded. "I mean, your weyrmate—"

"It's not that kind of dinner," T'ril assured her, shaking his head.

A blush suffused Caleigh's face, and she mumbled, "I didn't really think it was."

_Syketh's rider says you should be more straightforward and wants to know why?_ Dionath asked her rider.

_Tell T'ril that she hit me with a rock, by accident--make sure you get that in, Dio--and I think she's all alone here. Nobody needs to be alone, not after all we've been through._

_I think she hit you harder with that rock than you think_, Dio retorted.

"It's the group of us that went to Sable," C'jan explained to Caleigh, whose eyebrows alternated between rising to her hairline and lowering over the second most beautiful pair of green eyes he'd ever seen. The first, owned by his weyrmate, were fixed on him in an expression of mingled mirth and exasperation. "We decided to celebrate our return home at the Dragon's Eye. If you're not doing anything, I'd love to have you come along. StarRise riders together, enjoying their homecoming."

_Syketh says his rider says he thinks she hit you a good one, too_, Dio added.

Caleigh blinked twice, rapidly. "Three months later?" she asked, confused why they'd want to wait that long before celebrating. "Oh, well," she added, abruptly realizing he'd given the perfect excuse to decline. "I don't want to intrude on you and your friends," she said, trying to tug her hands out of C'jan's grip. "I wasn't at Sable."

She glanced at T'ril and though he smiled nicely enough, she could tell that he was as unprepared for C'jan's invitation as she had been. He, however, seemed quite willing to go along with it. Poor man. How often did C'jan drag him into situations he might prefer to avoid?

She tugged at her hands again, but C'jan wasn't letting go. She had a bad feeling that it wasn't just her hands that had been caught, either. She looked at his earnest expression and the bad feeling intensified. _And, shard it, he's just cute enough that - preferring men or not - he's used to women being unable to tell him no,_ she thought with reluctant amusement. She was no more immune to his pretty face than anyone else.

"I'm sorry I hit you with the rock, Wingleader, and I hope you have a good time with your friends tonight. It **is** good to be back home."

"Yes, it is," C'jan agreed with her, still smiling, still holding her hands. "Especially when you have someone to make you feel welcome. Caleigh, come with us. Please. It would mean a great deal to me if you would." C'jan stepped closer, and Caleigh's eyes widened as she instinctively leaned back. _'Large envelope of personal space,'_ C'jan noted and moved back. "I know what you're thinking—I'm either up to something, or I'm mocking you. I'm not doing either one. It's just that . . ." He paused. How to tell her he thought she was so lonely, in this ordered little weyr that clearly held no one but herself? Coming home was wonderful when you had someone there. And he couldn't stand the thought of leaving anyone alone, not after turns of what had felt like exile.

"C'jan," T'ril began, shifting his feet. "You may want to—"

"You feel sorry for me, here all alone," Caleigh said for him, her faint smile actually looking amused – and friendly. "That's sweet, C'jan, but I'm very comfortable alone. These are your friends, and it's your outing--you go! Thank you for the offer," she added sincerely, her courtesy making C'jan smile. "But I couldn't intrude. Really."

"And we've got to get going," T'ril reminded him. "Last chance to come along," he added to Caleigh.

C'jan glanced from his weyrmate to Caleigh, and then dropped to his knees. T'ril groaned; Caleigh stepped back and tried to pull her hands loose, once again unsuccessfully. C'jan pulled them to his breast and assumed what he hoped was a ridiculous, sad-eyed, soulful look. "I'm sorry, Caleigh. Really, I am. You see, I can't take no for an answer. You're just going to have to come with us."

"What?"

"Oh give it up, now I need to get drunk. And you _really_ need to get drunk," T'ril said, looking to Caleigh. "Could you just come along to shut him up? He won't stop unless you go, and trust me, it's easier to give in than try to argue with him. You'd have better luck if you hit him in the head with another rock."

"Ignore T'ril; he's just embarrassed for your sake," C'jan informed Caleigh, who stared at him in stunned disbelief. "Please, Caleigh. Am I that bad a man? Did I insult and shout at you when you hit me with the rock? Did I demand that you nurse me and answer all my questions, or I'd turn you in to the Weyrleader?"

"Please hit him on the head with another rock now," T'ril muttered.

"Ignore the man, he's insane," C'jan told Caleigh, earning a growl from his weyrmate.

"Insane to be weyrmated to you, apparently," T'ril noted.

C'jan waved at him to be quiet. "Caleigh, please. I like you. I've liked you from the moment you tried to help me. Please come with us, or I'll have to follow you around the Weyr until you give in."

"I—" Caleigh's gaze flew from C'jan to T'ril; the bluerider grimaced, and Caleigh's expression hovered between chagrin, resignation, and maybe just a hint of laughter. "Is he really going to do this?" she asked T'ril.

T'ril snorted. "And throw in some melodramatics for good measure."

"Please?" C'jan hung his head and pretended to sob. "Pleeeeeeease?"

"Great sea, C'jan, Reyna would love to cast you in one of her plays. You're a natural," Caleigh blurted out.

"Best way to make him stop is to just give in. I learned it years ago." T'ril tucked his arm through Caleigh's. "And this way I don't have to hear about it later. Please?"

She sighed and shook her head. "All right, I'll come," she agreed, as much to appease T'ril's growing impatience as to get C'jan off his knees in the middle of her doorway. People could see them, from the right angle, and Faranth alone knew what rumors would start from this scene.

_Good!_ Bralaeth said approvingly. _You should spend more time with your own kind. Being alone is not good for you._

_ I'm not a dragon, dear. I don't live in the minds of my fellows. It wouldn't be comfortable or pleasant for me, or them. _Caleigh shook her head at the brown, familiar with this frequent topic of conversation. "I need to change clothes. I'm not dressed for going out," she added to the two men as T'ril pried C'jan's hands away.

C'jan paused, eyeing her doubtfully, then stood up and glanced at T'ril. The bluerider held his hands up and backed away. Caleigh could guess the wingleader's thoughts, and yes – she was tempted to simply not go once she had them out of her weyr. However, she had a suspicion that if she didn't show up at the Dragon's Eye within a few minutes of their arrival, C'jan would be back at her weyr and mortifying her before the eyes of the Weyr. She wouldn't risk that. The Dragon's Eye had plenty of dim, quiet corners and once she got there she had no doubt that C'jan's attention would turn to his friends. She would be quietly, and quickly, forgotten and then she could slip away home.

"I promise. I'll be there. But not wearing everyday grungies."

"Weeeeellllll. All right," C'jan finally agreed. "Dragon's Eye. No more than a candlemark!"

**Dragon's Eye Bar and Grill, one candlemark later**

Caleigh paused just inside the door of the Dragon's Eye, StarRise Weyr's favorite tavern. Its only tavern, built into the outside wall of the old volcano that housed the Weyr. Sailors, dragonriders, and weyrfolk kept the place busy, except for the long five turns when the Weyr was abandoned. Brelin, the owner, had gone elsewhere for most of that time, but had returned at the beginning of the turn, when the lower caverns staff had begun preparing the Weyr for the return of the dragonriders. Now it was back to its old, familiar routine.

Brelin stood behind the bar, pouring ale and beer by the glass and pitcher. A group of a dozen men and women took up one corner of the long bar, and when he could spare a moment from the common drink of the majority, he mixed up unique blends and tried them out on his test wherries, as he called them.

Brelin never missed a thing, however, and she'd no sooner stepped inside than he looked at her and grinned. "C'jan told me to keep an eye out for you, my lass. They're over in the corner. Don't worry; it's not so bad."

Caleigh gave the bartender a smile. He was among the few she called friend, and he was very familiar with her 'retiring' ways, as he called them. "Anything is better than what he threatened me with."

Brelin chuckled. "I just bet. Go on back. I'll have a few pitchers sent over."

Caleigh nodded and turned to thread her way through the crowded room. She didn't mind crowds. It was easy to be lost and overlooked in them. She enjoyed watching others talk and laugh, and tried to interpret and understand the body language used, when speech was so hard to hear or understand. Of course, the dim lighting made the time she'd spent on choosing what to wear rather pointless, but the black leggings and emerald, paneled tunic was comfortable and pretty. She'd brushed her hair out so it frothed around her shoulders and down her back. On pure whim, she'd added a little kohl liner around her eyes and a dark-tinted balm to her lips. No one would see it, anyway, and if she was going out, then she wanted to feel like she was going out.

And if Reyna were here, she wanted to give her old friend a start. Reyna was always after her to make more of an effort with her appearance. She'd be shocked that Caleigh had actually come. She'd be doubly shocked at the kohl and balm, which had both been gifts she'd given to Caleigh.

There was already a crowd around the table, and most of the faces were, thankfully, at least rudimentally familiar to her. Reyna, of course, was there. C'jan and T'ril sat across from a greenrider she knew by reputation to be M'teo, a wingsecond in C'jan's wing. Kadyra was there, another of her friends. F'lerin, whom everyone knew, whether they wished to or not, was currently trying hard to impress another set of greenriders she didn't know.

She saw C'jan start to turn her way and steeled herself for what would come next, but T'ril waved at him instead and gestured to a harp nearby. T'ril handed C'jan a flagon of ale then picked up the harp. He started playing a tune, inviting everyone to sing along. People started stomping their feet and raising their voices, C'jan included, and Caleigh saw her chance to slip into the group without attracting too much attention.

She found an empty chair at one end of the table, close to Reyna and far from C'jan, and settled into it. She scooted it back slightly away from the table, and closer to the wall. Reyna didn't notice her, caught up in the music and the laughter, and Caleigh smiled as she crossed her ankles and clasped her hands together in her lap. She looked around the room, seeing who else was there and what they were doing.

"Can I bring you something to drink?" a woman asked, dropping into the chair beside her.

"Um, ale would be fine. Brelin said he'd send some pitchers over," Caleigh said quietly, smiling hesitantly.

"You've got it." The other woman smiled at her. "I'm Ianthe. If you need anything, just track me down or let Brelin know."

Caleigh nodded and watched as Ianthe gracefully rose from the chair and wended her way across the room again. She recognized Ianthe, of course. She'd known Brelin's sister by sight for as long as Ianthe had been at the Dragon's Eye. And, of course, she'd heard about Ianthe's specialty via gossip and rumors. She wondered, briefly, how Brelin felt about his sister's vocation, then turned her attention back to the music and conversation around her. Ianthe's choices and Brelin's feelings on them were not her business, and probably not something she'd ever really understand.

The promised pitchers of ale arrived and after pouring herself a tankard Caleigh settled back in her chair, all but hidden in shadow, and turned her attention to the more outgoing people at the table. C'jan was the center of attention, and he shone. She hadn't met many people who seemed as alive as the greenrider, and energy all but crackled around him. She sipped from her tankard, her mind coolly making observations and cataloguing the reactions of people around them as the minutes stretched into hours. Music was interspersed with conversation, which ranged from philosophical to political, nose-dived in to bawdy, then sobered into tactical. Reminiscences were many, and song could break out at any time.

Caleigh was surprised to find that she was thoroughly enjoying herself.

At one point, the empty pitchers of ale threatened to overwhelm the table. Caleigh stood up in her shadowed corner and quietly collected them. She delivered them to the bussing window by the bar and made a short trip to the necessary. She assumed her absence had been as unnoticed as her presence and tried to slip quietly back into her chair. Sudden silence from the group as she went to sit down warned her, however, that she hadn't been as unnoticed as she wished.

She looked up warily and saw first Reyna's self-satisfied smirk.

Then she saw that every eye on the table was trained on her, and C'jan had a wide smile on his face. His weyrmate had the same expression he'd had when C'jan had fallen to his knees to beg her to join them tonight. Caleigh knew, with a sick, sinking sensation, that she wasn't going to like what was coming.

"Ahh . . . yes?" she said hesitantly.

"It's your turn," Reyna informed her.

Caleigh blinked. "My turn?"

"To sing."

Caleigh stared at her fellow brownrider and tried to figure out what the shell she was talking about. "To sing?"

"Yes," C'jan agreed, strumming his hand over the harp. "We've all taken turns, either singing, playing, or offering a topic of discussion. We've skipped you for a few rounds so you could get settled and comfortable."

"But then, I let them know that you could sing. So we decided it's your turn." Reyna, Caleigh decided, could eat Thread next 'Fall.

"But I . . ."

"Oh, no, you don't!" Reyna stood up and took Caleigh's shoulders. "No, no, no. And just for trying, you're going to sing for _everyone_!"

"Reyna!"

Caleigh tried to twist away, but Reyna's hands were strong and her friend was determined. Few could dissuade Reyna when her mind was set. Before Caleigh knew it, she was on the harper's dais staring out over a room full of strangers, and her stomach was imitating storm swells. She swallowed hard and glared at Reyna. Her friend folded her arms, planted herself in a chair in front of her and smirked.

"Sing, then you can run away and hide," Reyna taunted her.

Caleigh's eyes narrowed as a spurt of anger burned the nausea away. Reyna knew how uncomfortable she was! This was cruel, and unfair. She knew that look in Reyna's eye, however, and there would be no getting off this stage without either a song, or a scene. The song would be easier . . . but Reyna would regret this.

Caleigh took a steadying breath, unfocused her gaze so she wouldn't actually see anyone, and pretended she was on an empty beach. It was a challenge, but any dragonrider who couldn't visualize something other than what they were seeing was a dead dragonrider.

"Beneath the silver moons,

Glimmering jewels of diamond spread

Across a silken bed of midnight pools

Calm and serene, reflected from o'erhead,

An endless eternity…."

The first line was half-drowned in the muted roar of voices. The second line was more clearly heard. By the third line, Caleigh's clear, sweet voice was the only sound to be heard in the entire tavern. The song wound through four stanzas, then faded into a soft close. As the last "an endless eternity…" faded into silence, a hush held the customers in a gentle grip.

And then the room exploded in applause, whistles, and demands for more.

Caleigh stepped down from the stage, nodded briefly to C'jan, lanced Reyna with a furious glare, and then walked straight out of the Dragon's Eye. The party was over for her.

"Wait!" C'jan called from his seat. "Caleigh! At least give us an encore!" He stumbled into a younger rider, who staggered out of the way. C'jan glared at him. "One side, will you?"

"Who was that?" The rider stared after Caleigh, brown eyes wide.

"The main guest," C'jan threw back at him, sighing in irritation as Caleigh disappeared on her brown. "The life of the party."


End file.
